Today's post is a guest post from Annie Balant. You'll remember she helped inspire and motivate me through my half-marathon and now she is telling us about her experience running and training for her first marathon. If you've ever been scared to try something big, or wondered at the end of it why you aren't thrilled, read on! Such a honest account of training for something huge and not being totally sure how you feel about it!
So what is winning,
anyway? Do we recognize it when it happens?
Ok, so yeah, I ran a marathon. I should give a little
backstory here. I’ve struggled with my weight all my life. I took up running a
few years ago, and dropped out of half marathon training because I felt I
couldn’t do it. I closed the book on that chapter of my life, and decided I
just wasn’t built to run 21k. I was very sad, but I accepted that I just
couldn’t do it.
About a year ago, I cautiously tried to put away that
conviction and began training in the cold and rain. I ran my first Half in
January and was amazed to learn that I, yes I, could do it. I’m not a gazelle!
I run like a penguin. But, if you keep putting one foot in front of the other,
distances get covered. It just kind of happens. It’s like something out of Tolkien,
where you just don’t know where the Road takes you.
Running is not for everyone, but I have to tell you, beating
a challenge you really thought was beyond you is the most amazing feeling in
the world.
ß
After this race, I was convinced I could fly. I went on to lose about 28
pounds. Not an easy task either, just by the way.
So yeah, I signed up to run a marathon and went, ‘OH CRAP,
what have I done.’ Plus I committed to raising a lot of money for charity,
because apparently I’m something of an idiot (keep that in mind, it comes up
again later.) But, well, no point in half measures – I threw myself into the
training as best I could. Aaaand, about halfway through, managed to over-train
and injure my IT band pretty badly. By badly I mean: not able to do stairs
well, not able to run more than 2k without limping home in pain. And this was
at a critical juncture when I was supposed to be doing very long runs. Apparently
this is not uncommon, by the way.
Anyway, as the big date approached, I was very nervous that
I’d set myself a goal I couldn’t complete – I was limping every time I got up
from my desk and really concerned that I couldn’t finish the entire race. Plus
I also have a significant anxiety issue, and was getting full-on panic attacks.
So, how does an anxiety prone individual deal with a big goal that means the
world to her? Well, I sought out as much advice as I could find on running
psychology. Taking some good advice I found online, I decided to set myself
multiple goals, to ease off of the tension caused by an all-or-nothing
approach. I’d recommend this approach to anyone facing a new challenge. It
really helps put one in a more positive frame of mind.
I thought about it and decided my goals were:
1.
Get to
the starting line. I’d raised over $3400 for charity, trained long hours,
overcome some injuries (created new ones), ran in the rain, ran hungry, ran
lonely and ran when everyone else was sleeping. Getting to the starting line
was in itself, an accomplishment. My coach reminded us that once you stand at
that starting line, once you cross it, you are officially a marathoner. No
matter what happens after that.
2.
Finish 5
miles. You see, I’d had a couple of bad outings in training and I’ve
experienced the anguish of simply being unable to run. Lest I sound overly
dramatic, I understand this is nothing compared to the anguish others have felt
with more pain and greater challenges. But my point is, I knew there were steep
hills in the first 5 miles. I knew that my IT band was a mess. I just didn’t
know what I was going to be able to do relying on mental toughness, and what
might simply not be possible. Finishing at least 5 miles and getting up the
first few hills seemed like a milestone worth shooting for.
3.
Finish
the half. I actually didn’t want to focus on this too much, as mentally my
barrier was around the 21k/13 mile mark. I’ve completed a few Halfs to date,
and much as that goal used to seem lofty and out of reach, I knew it was at
least possible. I have to admit, I was never seriously considering doing this
unless I was absolutely disabled by this point. I’m not a great runner but I
can be stubborn as a pit bull with a bone.
4.
Finish
the entire race outside the official time of 6.5 hours. I know most people
would say ‘who cares what your time is’. I get that. But I didn’t just want to
run it. I didn’t just want to finish it. I wanted that official time. You see,
they take down the Finish line after a while and open the roads up to cars
again. You can run all night if you need to, but no one will be at the Finish
line, and no one will publish your time. Would I still be a finisher then? I
reminded myself I would be, and I could walk or crawl if I had to. I told
myself that this would be a goal to shoot for, and to try to be happy with
(particularly when you consider the above points – it was by no means certain
I’d get that far.)
5.
Finish
the entire race just within the official time. This was the big goal. I
wanted that necklace, and I wanted to earn
it. Technically, I could have a medical DNF (did not finish) and still get it.
Technically I could run an “amended route” which I never saw defined, but was
told existed. I imagine that would mean skipping the last long loop (by far the
hardest part.) But right or wrong, fair or unfair, I wanted the official time,
I wanted to finish under my own steam after doing the full course. I would
never judge anyone else, but for me, I knew I would never wear the necklace if
I earned it by skipping some portion of the course.
6.
Finish
the entire race under 6 hours.
I completed all but one of these goals. I finished the race
in 6:23, thereby giving me an official race time and medal. While my time was
not great, it’s recorded. I earned my medal. I completed the entire course,
step for step. I did each hill and I did them well – not a small consideration
for this course.
Why then did I feel defeated? You see, silly as it may
sound, I felt awful when I crossed that finish line. Not just in pain (although
certainly there was enough of that) but defeated. Like a complete and utter failure.
What?
Really.
And no, I would not look at anyone else that way. Anyone
else who finished a marathon in whatever time, I would sincerely congratulate
and think well of their skills. Nope, this is an issue about how I regard
myself. Probably this says something about me (see earlier point about being an
idiot.)
For whatever reason, I started to get my heart set on that
last goal, and I had 5:45 in my mind for much of that race. I was leading the
darn 5:10 pace bunny for much of the race! And as I rounded mile 20, stuff was flat
out breaking on me. Giving right the hell out. My IT band was well into that
‘red alert’ feeling of not just pain but weakness. My feet felt like I was
running on Lego blocks (regrettably made worse by under-training the last
weeks, due to that damn IT band issue.) I think I’ve mentioned this, but I’ll
say it again – it HURT.
The pissoff is that I actually had pretty good energy. I
never got out of breath. I didn’t feel physically exhausted. Months of cardio
at least did that for me – I could have kept going if my legs didn’t give out. But one thing I was not adequately prepared
for was the mental game of long distance running. I don’t think I could have
been, this is something that comes with experience alone. You see, I had often
heard of ‘hitting the wall.’ I wrongly assumed (I think others tried to tell
me, to no avail) that it was a feeling of being tired. Yeah, no. It’s an
overwhelming feeling of defeat, of utter failure akin to humiliation. For me,
it was the combination of pain, fatigue, injury and probably some messed up
blood chemistry following multiple hours of exercise and eating only gels (with
a little bit of fruit.) I hadn’t fully appreciated that a difficult physical
exertion over a prolonged period of time, well…. it DOES things to your head.
And I think I truly hit that wall in about mile 24 or so.
So when I crossed
that finish line, I was fully in wall-mode even though I was freakin’ done. I
felt so sad and embarrassed, I didn’t get a photo. There’s one picture of me
that’s so sad, I can’t even share it.
ß
So what did I learn from all this? Well, a lot! But first
and foremost:
1.
You have
to believe in your accomplishments. This is something that I’ve been coming
to realize as I recover physically from the race. Running a race doesn’t make
you a great person, a smart person or an elite athlete. But beating your old
limits, not believing in the “can’t” – that is worth feeling good about. That’s
the part I want to share. This doesn’t come easy to me, not at all. If you’d
seen the fat kid coming in last at track and field at school you would NEVER
have picked her to be the one to finish the marathon. But I was that fat kid, and
I am that 40-something who has run a marathon. I believe in that
accomplishment.
2.
Don’t
underestimate the psychology of the challenge – I thought somehow I
wouldn’t be subject to hitting the wall. I thought somehow I was going to get
out of it (see earlier point about being an idiot. I told you it would come up
again.) Yeah, no. It happens to more experienced, more skilled people than me.
I didn’t recognize it when it happened to me.
3.
Fall five
times, get up six. We all fall. We all get injured. We all make mistakes.
Get up. Keep going. Believe in what you’ve done, and what you can do. At some
point in my life, I won’t be as capable as I am now. I hope to try to hold on
to these feelings so I can keep going.
4.
Whatever
it is you believe you can do, you can do more. Did I think I could run a marathon? ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME?
Um, so no, I didn’t think I could. Aaaaand here we are.
Is this the end of my story? I hope not. I still have that
5:45 goal to complete.
Congratulations Annie. I hope we actually meet each other some day as you sound like an incredible young woman
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